


Entirely Wrong Season

by hanktalkin



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Gen, Halloween
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-05 17:13:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16371761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanktalkin/pseuds/hanktalkin
Summary: snuggle party + pumpkin carving





	Entirely Wrong Season

**Author's Note:**

> i need platoic survivor cuddle party. Jake/Claudette if you squint

“What…are you doing?”

Meg looked up, her homemade shank buried in the Jack-O-Lantern’s eye. “Carving pumpkins.”

Dwight shuffled on his feet, waiting for another explanation that wouldn’t come and eventually she went back to her work, legs cradling the pumpkin as she hacked it open.

Rather than chalk it up to another of the survivor’s weird coping mechanisms, Dwight sat on one of the logs around the campfires edge and watched the pumpkin that was eerily out of place in the nightmare forest that surrounded them. The things had started appearing last night, not long after the glowing pustules had sprung up, almost like orange blobs heralded more orange blobs.

“…Any particular reason or…?”

This time Meg didn’t even bother to look up. The knife— _shank_ —messily scooped up another chunk of pumpkin guts; Dwight had seen it in action for the first time tonight, a secret gift Laurie had imparted before the survivors had shuffled around again. And now, the thing Meg had buried in The Shape’s shoulder was being used to make Halloween decorations.

“You going to light it?” He tried. He _always_ tried to connect with the others, make them into some sort of team—there was else much for him to do but to keep trying.

And, miraculously, Meg responded. She nodded, grabbed a spare flashlight, and turned it on inside the pumpkin. “There. Now we can all get in the Halloween spirit.”

Dwight surprised himself with a dry bark. “Do things really need to be more spooky?”

Hot air huffed out her nose, seemingly from amusement. She turned, and he followed her gaze to the other two members of their party sitting beyond the rings of the fire. Jake had his hand in Claudette’s, the botanist finishing the last of the stitches in a particularly nasty gash along his palm. As she looked up, she gave it a slight squeeze. Jake’s face tightened, an expression Dwight assumed was the Jake-version of a smile.

“Not the right kind of spooky,” Meg said, not taking her eyes off them. “The good kind. The kind you get when you know at the end of the month, everything’s still going to be alright.” She pursed her lips. “We deserve a little of that.”

At first that was just as cryptic as anything she said but then- “This was the first time we’ve all made it out.” The realization hit him hard in the chest. Between the malleability of time and sleep cycles only broken up the hunts, it was hard to keep track of who died when. But with that tacky orange face shining at him, he was sure: this time, they’d come back without loosing a single person to the hooks.

A nod. “Needed a little celebration.”

He wasn’t used to Meg being terribly optimistic, but didn’t get a chance to comment before they were joined by Jake and Claudette. They were both glowing; firelight mix of exhaustion and relief in their eyes.

“You guys turning in?” Claudette asked casually.

Dwight opened his mouth and closed it a few times, not sure of what to say. Finally, he just nodded, and took his usual place by the fire. To his surprise, as soon as he leaned against his log, Jake plopped down against his side.

If Dwight was speechless before, that was nothing compared to now. Claudette curled up against Jake’s chest, his arm swinging over her while his head dropped down on Dwight’s shoulder, and the warmth of the fire now paled in comparison to the heat rolling over the huddle of survivors. And finally, as though things couldn’t get any stranger, Meg clambered over all three of them, turning their legs into her own personal bed.

“Meg!” Claudette complained as Meg accidently kicked the other girl in the shin.

But other than that…no one acted like it was strange at all. Dwight looked between the three of them, then whisper-accused to Meg, “did you plan this?”

A snort. Then she elbowed him in the thigh as she attempted to put her head on his stomach.

It was supremely uncomfortable. It was too hot, Jake smelled like camping, and Meg was one bad slip away from squashing his junk. But, as he gazed at his three companions— _friends_ —he thought that if this was his “alright at the end,” then it was worth it.


End file.
